The Shipbuilder
by titanicdream
Summary: What if it wasn't Jack that Rose fell in love with on the Titanic? Follow Rose as she falls for a different love: the ship's designer, Thomas Andrews. Explore her mind as she must decide if she loves the man she's engaged to or one she only just met.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Titanic. I do not own Rose. As much as I want to, I do not own Mr. Andrews either. sigh

**Note**: Please be gentle with me. This is only the first chapter, so there won't be a lot of Rose/Mr. Andrews action going on. Mostly this chapter is just setting things up. So if you're hoping to read a full blown make out session between Rose and Mr. Andrews. . .come back later. Lol, just kidding.

Enjoy this chapter. Please review!

**Chapter 1**

Rose's mind was racing as she stood by her bed, holding tightly onto the bed post as Trudy laced her corset. She was thinking about her life, trying to find a way to get out of it. She felt as though her whole world was slowly collapsing. Her life was crumbling and she was trapped under it. It was getting harder to breathe. She couldn't even think straight anymore.

The worse thing was knowing that no one would ever come save her. Instead of saving her they would leave her left under the rubble, acting as though she didn't even need help. Rose was rich. Wealthy people were supposed to be problem free, weren't they? Live in a safe bubble, attend endless parades of parties or cotillions, marry an affluent man to make the family even richer. Life was supposed to be perfect for Rose. That's why nobody cared to notice her silent screams.

Trudy finished dressing Rose. Then, with a sigh, she off to meet Cal and her mother for lunch. Cal. He only seemed to add more weight on Rose's shoulders. Cal was thirty years old, nearly twelve years her senior and heir to the Hockley fortune. He was handsome and rich beyond meaning, what every wealthy man wanted for his daughter. However, Rose saw beyond that. She saw how arrogant, possessive, and abusive he was.

Yes, each time he would get upset with Rose he'd hit her. A hard slap across the face was typical. She hated it, and wished more than anything she could get out of the relationship. She wished she could find someone who would love her for who she was; someone who was kind and caring and simple.

Rose dwelt on these thoughts as she, her mother, and Cal met with Molly Brown, J. Bruce Ismay, and some man she did not recognize. The six of them moved to a table inside the Palm Court and took a seat. Rose sat beside Cal and across from the foreign man. He was a handsome young man, maybe just below the age of forty. He was well-built and straight with broad shoulders. Brown hair covered his head and his brown eyes seemed kind and friendly. The man was definitely a fine figure.

A scowl remained on Rose's face for most of the lunch. She only half listened to the conversation that was going on. It was just the same mindless chatter to her. She didn't give her full attention until she heard Mr. Ismay say "...and our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up."

_So Mr. Andrews is his name? _Rose thought to herself as she looked at the man. _And he built this ship? How fascinating!_

Mr. Andrews gave a shy smile, which made butterflies flap inside Rose's stomach. "Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's."

_Modesty: a characteristic that Cal lacks._

Mrs. Brown had the nerve to ask, "Why're ships always bein' called 'she'? Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"

Everyone, with the exception of Rose, laughed.

_It is just another example of men setting the rules their way. Saying that ships are feminine is sexist! It proves that men are possessive of women, just like Cal. _Rose stared at Cal as she thought this. She frowned as she lit a cigarette. If only she had said that aloud.

"You know I don't like that, Rose," Ruth whispered to her daughter.

"She knows," Cal said coldly. He took the cigarette from her hand and stubbed it out on the table.

Rose was upset, but didn't say a word.

Cal turned and ordered lunch for both of them. She didn't even get a say in what she got to eat. It was ridiculous, but still she didn't say a word.

"You like lamb, don't you sweetpea?"

Rose nodded with a fake smile.

Both Mr. Andrews and Mrs. Brown saw that Rose was unhappy with Cal's overbearing demeanor.

Molly spoke, "So, you gonna cut her meat for her too there, Cal?"

A true smile appeared over Rose's porcelain face when he saw Cal's reaction. They say Mrs. Brown was "new money," knew nothing of their ways, and was vulgar. Rose was grateful for this. At least one woman understood her pain.

Ismay suddenly went on about size. Rose figured it was time for a witty remark. She could no longer keep her mouth shut. "Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay."

Mr. Andrews choked on his food when he heard this. Such words were completely unexpected from a lady. His face turned bright red as he tried to stifle laughter. Rose caught this out of the corner out of her eye. She could feel those butterflies again.

"Excuse me," she muttered as she stood and walked away, catching a final glance at Mr. Andrews before walking out onto the deck.

Rose stood at the railing of _Titanic_, staring blankly out at the sea. She was furious and so tired of Cal treating her like a piece of meat. He was a nasty, cruel tyrant and she was his slave. The only reason she was here was so she could wait on Cal hand and foot and give him what he desired. The thought of marrying him was driving her insane.

On the other side of life, the thought of that Mr. Andrews guy made Rose weak at the knees. She had known him for but a half hour, and already she thought him to be a better guy than that monster she was betrothed to. He was handsome. So very handsome, indeed. Intelligent and modest, too. All qualities that Cal would never possess.

The only time Rose was happy was when she was lost in thought. Thinking of a man she actually liked only made her happier. The only thing that could ever ruin her happiness was. . .that voice. When she heard it bellow her name from behind she wanted to die. It always knew the wrong time to chime in.

"What has gotten into you lately, Rose?" Cal asked as he grabbed onto Rose's arm. "You're acting childish."

"Everything's perfect," Rose replied nonchalantly. She gently tore his hand off of her. "Just as you expect my life to be." She walked away, leaving Cal in an irritated mood. She wished she could walk away from her life just that easily.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Rose stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection with such strong emotion. She had been thinking of her life all day. She wished the thoughts would go away, but they just wouldn't. They were haunting her. Her world had finally collapsed on top of her. She could no longer breathe, no longer think. She was completely dead inside, overwhelmed with so many feelings that she didn't know how to deal with. She was drowning in her own sadness.

The reflection in the mirror did not make Rose any happier. All she could see was a lost girl, someone waiting for a helping hand that would never come. Suddenly, Rose pushed against her vanity and ran out of her room.

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she ran down the corridor and out onto the B-deck promenade. She pushed through an elderly couple who was taking a stroll on the deck, not caring that she nearly knocked the woman to the ground. Rose runs all the way to the stern of the ship. She did not stop until she got to the rail that kept passengers from falling overboard.

Rose looked down at the splashing ocean water below. She was no longer sobbing. Instead, was completely numb. She looked behind her, then began to climb onto the railing. She tried not to slip on her long dinner dress, but like it mattered if she did. Rose was determined to do this. It was the only way to solve her problems.

When she was on the other side of the railing she turned her body so that it was facing away from the ship. She looked back down at the water, ready to jump. She was about to let go when she heard a voice from behind.

"Rose..." the voice of Mr. Andrews spoke gently. "Rose, wait. Please, don't jump."

"Stay back!" Rose yelled. "I'll jump. I mean it!"

Mr. Andrews slowly inched toward Rose. "Rose, please, come back over the rail. Here, take my hand." He held out his hand for her.

Rose looked back at Mr. Andrews. She thought about it for a moment, then looked away. "You don't want to help me," Rose replied. "All you want is for me to get back onto the ship safely before anyone else sees. You're afraid that a girl jumping off the back of your ship will bring bad publicity."

"No," Andrews replied. "No, that's not what I think at all. I fear for your safety, Rose. Now, please, stop being foolish and come back over before you slip."

She didn't move.

"You don't want to do this."

"How do you know what I do and do not want to do?" Rose asked. "You don't know me!"

Andrews stood directly behind Rose. "Nobody wants to die," he replied in a whisper. "Please, I beg you to reconsider."

Looking down, Rose began to realize how high up they were. She felt goose bumps crawl up her arm. Her heart was beating violently against her chest, feeling as though it might jump out. At first, she hesitated. Then she slowly began to turn. She reached out her hand and grabbed onto Mr. Andrews'. She faced him and peered into his chocolatey eyes. Those butterflies returned to her stomach.

Carefully, she began to climb up the railing. She almost slipped on her dress, but Mr. Andrews tightened his grip and caught a hold of her.

"I got you, don't worry," he told her. "I won't let you fall."

Rose felt completely safe as she climb the rest of the way. Mr. Andrews helped her clamber over the top of the rail. He gently placed his hand around her waist, praying to God that she didn't fall. When her feet finally touched the ground, he felt so much much better.

"Are you all right?" Mr. Andrews asked.

Rose nodded. "Yeah," she replied, then tried to clear her throat. "Yes, I'm fine."

"You're trembling," he pointed out, his voice seeming concerned. "Here, take my coat." Andrews took off his dinner coat, then placed it over Rose's shoulders. "I think we should take you to the ship's doctor. You're as pale as a ghost."

"No," Rose refused. "No, I see no need. I'm fine, really."

Andrews quietly stared at Rose, knowing she was lying. "You're anything but fine," he finally said. "Is something bothering you?"

Rose softly shook her head. "There is no need in trying to comfort me. I need no consoling, nor do I need your help. I am just fine, thank you. Now, if you would excuse me, I am feeling tired and need rest." She began to turn away.

"At least allow me to escort you to your room," Mr. Andrews offers. "It's the least I can do for a lady."

With a small nod, Rose allows him. They walk together to Rose's B-deck stateroom without a single word. When they reached her room, Rose turned to Mr. Andrews and returned his coat. "Thank you," was all she said before opening the door and retreating to the inside.

"Good night, Rose," Mr. Andrews wished just before she closed the door on him.

-----

Later that night Rose sat at her vanity, peering down into her little handheld mirror. She was thinking about Mr. Andrews and how she wouldn't be there if not for him. If he had never shown up, she would probably be dead by now, her body floating lifelessly somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Even though he saved her, she never gave him a proper thank you. How stupid of her.

As she laid her mirror on the table, Rose looked up and saw Cal as he stepped into her room. He held in his hands a small, black box. "I know you've been melancholy," he said to her in an unusually tender voice.

Rose didn't believe what he had just said. It just wasn't true. Cal was too blinded with wealth and stupidity to see her sadness. He hadn't any idea how she felt. He would never understand, never care to listen.

The next thing Rose heard was "...But I thought tonight, perhaps a reminder of my feelings for you..." Cal opened the box he was holding, revealing the most beautiful blue stoned necklace she had ever seen.

"My God... Is it a-"

"Diamond? Yes. Fifty-six carats to be exact." Cal places the necklace around her thin neck.

Rose instantly fell in love with it. But fifty-six carats? Is that many really necessary to express one's love for another?

Cal went on to explain the history of the necklace, then says out of nowhere, "It's for royalty. We are royalty, Rose." He gets close to her, then adds, "There's nothing I'd deny you if you would deny me. Open your heart to me, Rose."

He had just given her the greatest gift in the world, a gift that every woman dreamed of having, but Rose still questioned her love for Cal. The necklace was beautiful, but she was tired of receiving these same meaningless gifts all the time. Diamonds may be a girl's best friend, but jewelry could never express love. Jewelry could never make a woman fall in love a man no matter how expensive and beautiful.

Rose gave Cal a small peck on the cheek. He then got up and left the room. She stayed sitting at her vanity, peering into the mirror in front of her, trying to find her true feelings deep down inside. Nothing. She had too much on her mind to think of loving Cal. She was too busy thinking of Andrews, her savior.

Suddenly it hit her: maybe he saved her because he actually cared for her. Cal would have saved her for all the wrong reasons, but Mr. Andrews. . .he was different. He saved her because he actually wanted to help, he truly wanted to help her. And yet Rose denied him.

_How could I be so stupid? _she thought. For so long she yearned for someone who would listen. Andrews had spared her life and was willing to help her, and in return she acted cold towards him and just dismissed him. Rose knew it was a poor thank you, and felt ever so bad about it. She knew she had to justify herself. She stayed up half of the night, debating what to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Note: Woot! Chapter 3 is up. I am on a roll! ) Thanks for sticking with me thus far, guys. You all rock! And to think, I actually thought people would despise this! We still have a long way to go, which means plenty of room for some enthralling tales. I promise I won't let any one down! Just stick with me. -lays out a tray of cookies for readers-

**Chapter 3**

Rose had fought with herself all morning, debating whether she should go find Mr. Andrews or not. He saved her life and she still owed him her gratitude. Thanking him seemed like the right thing to do, but at the same time she was afraid of what he would say and do._ Would he lecture me? Would he tell me I'm an idiot? Would he tell Cal? _

Throughout lunch Rose thought about these things. She was so terribly afraid. She wasn't too frightened about him telling Cal. More than anything she was afraid of what he thought of her. Mr. Andrews seemed like an awfully pleasant person, and she hated the slight possibility that he viewed her as an immature fool.

After thinking it over for a while, Rose finally came to the conclusion that she was thinking irrationally. Mr. Andrews was a genuine gentleman. He would never say such horrid things. So, immediately after lunch, Rose set off to find him.

She looked everywhere: the restaurants, the lounge, B-deck, the boat deck, the gymnasium. Everywhere! However, he was no where to be found. After searching for nearly an hour she decided to give up and started to return to her room.

As she was walking down the Grand Staircase to A-deck, she heard a familiar voice from behind.

"Afternoon, young Rose," Mr. Andrews' voice called.

Rose turned on the staircase and watched as Mr. Andrews descended behind her.

"Mr. Andrews! I've been looking everywhere for you."

Mr. Andrews smiled as he stepped onto the same stair as Rose. "I'm sorry. I've been all over the ship, inspecting things all morning. Is there something you need?"

"Yes," Rose replied nervously. "Could I have a word with you?"

"Of course!" Andrews replied cheerfully. "Let's make our way to the boat deck then, shall we?"

Rose nods and they both walk back up the stairs and out into the bright sunshine. She feels awkward, not knowing how to speak to him. There were so many things she wanted to get off her chest, but just didn't know how to begin.

"You must think I'm an idiot," Rose began, her eyes looking down at the ground.

Mr. Andrews gave Rose a confused look as they strolled down the deck. "Why would I think that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Rose replied. "Perhaps it's the fact that you saw me hanging off the back of a ship."

A wry smile appeared on Andrews' face. "Indeed, I saw you hanging off the back of a ship, but even that would never cause me to view you as such a thing. I think, more than anything, that you are just distraught, perhaps overwhelmed. But what, I have to wonder, would have such a strong emotional effect on you?"

"It's everything!" Rose immediately replied. They stopped and stood near the edge of the ship. She continued, "It's my life, and everybody in it. Everyone expects me to be perfect: the perfect daughter, the perfect socialite, the perfect wife. They treat me as though I'm some sort of animal. They throw commands at me and expect me to follow. I'm tired of being controlled all the time. It's my own life and I have no say in it at all."

Rose sighed, then added, "I must be mental for saying this, but I don't want to live such a pampered life anymore. I don't want to wear such fashionable clothing or attend a different social gathering every night. Nor do I want to live in a luxurious home with servants waiting on me. I mean, look at these hands, they were made for work. My spirit wants to be wild and free, but instead they have locked me up in a prison, confined for all eternity. All I want is to be free to choose my own destiny."

It wasn't until after her rant that Rose realized what she was saying. Sharing your feelings just wasn't proper in their society, especially when they were so extreme. "I'm sorry," Rose apologized before Andrews could say anything. She took a seat in one of the nearest chairs. "I shouldn't be saying all this to you."

"There's no need for apologies, Rose," Mr. Andrews replied, taking a seat beside Rose. "I understand that a woman's world might not be as easy as a man's. It is very clear you are not happy."

"I'm glad someone understands," Rose said. "But may I ask what makes my emotions so obvious?"

"It was your behavior at lunch yesterday," Andrews answered.

Rose's cheeks turned a bright cherry red. "I must apologize for being so rude. I don't know what came over me."

"I don't think you were rude at all. You were acting independently, something I admire in a young woman." Andrews chuckled, then said, "And might I add that your remark to Ismay about Dr. Freud was quite clever."

They both laughed.

Rose was starting to lighten up. She no longer felt so uncomfortable around Andrews. She thoroughly enjoyed hearing his laugh more than anything. Cal's was so dark and cold, the kind that made her shudder whenever she heard it. But Mr. Andrews' had a wonderful ring to it, a kind that made her feel warm inside.

When they had finished having their laugh, it fell silent. After a few moments, Andrews pulled a watch from his pocket. He said, "I'm sorry our chat must end so soon, but I'm afraid I have much work to do before dinner."

"You will be joining us, won't you?" Rose asked as they both stood.

"Of course," he replied, that boyish grin appearing across his face. "I'd be delighted."

Rose smiled, but then she remembered: she never thanked him. "Before you go, I just wanted to say thank you. Not just for saving me, but for your kindness. No one has ever been as kind as you."

Mr. Andrews bowed his head. "It's my pleasure, Rose." He bid his farewells and walked away. Rose remained where she was, smiling and blushing like some young, lovesick schoolgirl. Could it be possible that she was falling in love with a man she had only just met?


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry if I seem to be going slow lately. You see, I'm practicing a new religion. It's called "couch potatoism." It involves sitting on my fat butt all day, doing nothing. It also forbids work practically 24/7. I'll get started on Chapter 5 ASAP. Until then, enjoy 4.**

Chapter 4

"Rose, are you ready for dinner yet?" Cal asked as he opened the door to Rose's room.

Rose was standing at her mirror, adding the finishing touches to her wardrobe. She was wearing her favorite dinner dress: the black chiffon sequenced princess-seam gown. She knew Mr. Andrews was going to be there tonight and wanted to look astounding.

"Yes, darling, I'm coming," Rose replied. She glanced into the mirror once more. She smiled. After grabbing her purse, she left the room. Giving a slight smile, she linked arms with Cal and they, along with Ruth, headed down to the reception room.

At the bottom of the D-deck staircase stood Mr. Andrews. He was in the middle of a conversation with the Astors, but when he saw Rose he stopped talking and watched as she descended the staircase.

Cal and Rose unlinked arms when the reached the bottom of the staircase. They parted to chat. Cal walked toward Sir Cosmo Duff-Gordon and Archibald Gracie while Rose moved to the Astors and Andrews. "J. J., Madeleine, such a pleasure to see you both," Rose smiled as they exchanged greetings. She then looked at Andrews and added, "Good evening, Mr. Andrews."

"Good evening, Rose," Andrews replied. "You look exquisite."

Blushing, Rose returned a thank you. She looked over Andrews' shoulder and could see Cal standing with his male counterparts.

"Hockley, she is splendid,"she overheard Sir Cosmo say.

"Cal's a lucky man," Colonel Gracie chimed in. "I know him well, and it can only be luck."

Ruth smiled and grabed onto Cal's arm somewhat fondly. "How can you say that Colonel? Caledon Hockley is a great catch."

An angry frown appeared across Rose's face when she heard their words. How dare they speak of her like a prized horse! It was sickening, and her mother only added fuel to the fire. Caledon Hockley a great catch?! _Perhaps you should marry him then, Mother_. God, how she wished she could say that to her mother's face.

"Rose?"

Mr. Andrews' voice bought Rose back to earth. She looked at him, not aware that anyone had been speaking to her. "Sorry?"

Andrews replied with a laugh, "You're quite the dreamer. I asked if you were ready to proceed into the saloon."

Embarrassed, Rose grabbed onto his arm and together they walked into the dinning saloon. They followed Cal and Ruth to a table, where they combined with the Astors, Ismay, and a few other guests. Andrews seated Rose between himself and her fiancé.

Dinner started out normal. They enjoyed their caviar, goose liver, and champagne while exchanging stories and conversation.

Rose tried to stay out of their conversations as best she could. She didn't belong in any of them. None of the topics interested her. She spoke with Molly Brown for a few minutes, then went back to being quite. Ruth noticed this and kept shooting distasteful looks. Introverted socialites tended to be colorless, something she didn't want Rose to be.

One thing Rose noticed was Mr. Andrews and how he was keeping out of the conversations as well. She watched him as he wrote in his little notebook.

"Mr. Andrews, what are you doing? You're always seen writing in this little book." Rose inches closer to Andrews, then reads what he is writing. "Increase number of screws in hat hooks from two to three. What difference is one screw going to do?"

"More stability," was his reply.

Rose gave a small laugh. She was shocked. "You build the biggest ship in the world and this preoccupies you?"

Andrews smiled sheepishly as Ismay chimed in. "He knows every rivet in her, don't you Thomas?"

"All three million."

Everyone listening in on the conversation laughed.

Ismay added, "His blood and soul are in _Titanic_. She may be mine on paper, but in the eyes of God, she belongs to Thomas Andrews."

"Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Andrews," Rose commented.

Mr. Andrews blushed. He had fallen for her charm. He thanked her, then went back to writing in his notebook. Rose watched intently as his pen moved vigorously.

Itching for a conversation, Rose asked, "What other plans do you have for _Titanic_, Mr. Andrews?"

"Nothing major," Andrews replied. "After we return from New York, I hope to convert half of the reading and writing room to more staterooms."

"And why is that?"

"The room is not as popular as I had hoped. Such space should not be wasted, so I figured a smaller room would be more adequate. In addition, more staterooms means more room for first-class passengers."

Again, Ismay butted into the conversation."And more fine first-class passengers means more money. Eh, Andrews?"

Rose glared at Ismay, wishing he would just stifle himself or at least stick to his own conversation. He must've gotten the picture because he never broke in after that. This gave her and Andrews the opportunity to engage into conversation again. Rose continued asking questions about the ship and Andrews proudly answered every one.

Finally, Andrews said to Rose, "My, I have never met a woman so interested in ships."

Of course, Rose wasn't much into _Titanic_. She was just trying to dodge Cal and make conversation with the lovely Mr. Andrews simultaneously.

"Well, besides my wife, of course," Andrews added. His face glowed.

Rose could feel her heart sink. "You're married, Mr. Andrews?"

He nodded. "Nearly four years. I have a two-year-old daughter as well, Elizabeth Law Barbour."

A small smile was forced on Rose's face. She couldn't believe he was married. Yet at the same time she could. A man as great as he could not stay single for ever. "Well, your daughter must be beautiful."

"She's very beautiful."

Rose watched as Cal and the rest of the gentlemen stood to leave for their nightly brandy in the in smoking room. All that remained was Mrs. Astor, Mrs. Brown, the Countess, Ruth, Rose, and Mr. Andrews.

"I best be going, too," Mr. Andrews said as he rose to his feet.

"Must you?" Rose asked.

"I have a few things to finish before I retire," Andrews replied. "But since you seem so interested in _Titanic_, how about I give you a personal tour of her tomorrow afternoon? You can bring your mother and Cal along if you wish."

Rose didn't wish to bring them along, but since her mother had overheard she had to. "We'd love to," Ruth answered before Rose could say anything.

"Splendid!" He looked down at Rose. "Until then, goodnight." He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"Goodnight," Rose bade before he walked away. She closed her eyes, not wanting to believe he was married with a child. She didn't want to believe it. . .not one bit.

_I can still make him love me._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The sunlight brilliantly poured into the private promenade of the Dewitt Bukater and Hockley suite. Rose and Cal sat silently at a table, eating their breakfast without exchanging a single word. He looked at her perplexedly, questioning her attitude and aloofness.

"I had hoped you'd come to me last night," he finally spoke.

Rose took a small sip of her tea, then replied, "I was tired." It was no lie. Her deep thinking had no doubt exhausted her.

"Do I not please you, Rose?" he asked her, wondering why she seemed to remain so distant lately.

Coolly, Rose set her teacup on the table. "In what manner do you mean?" she asked rhetorically. Cal seemed confused. "I only ask because there are certain fields in which you lack satisfaction." She was, of course, insinuating that their sex life was anything but filling.

Cal clearly understood what she was trying to imply. He glared at her with fire in his eyes. His temper was boiling. Rose nervously awaited his reaction. He stood. Then, with all this anger, he knocked the breakfast table over. Without a word, he angrily stormed off the deck.

A surge of triumph rose inside her as she watched Cal storm away. She had won, and it was as easy as counting to three. Happily, she went back to her breakfast, not caring if any consequences would arise later that day.

* * *

The pain of a corset was the last thing on Rose's mind as Trudy tightly laced hers up. She was smiling to herself, proud that she had spoken her mind to Cal. It was the first major time she had ever dared to do it. Her morning couldn't be any better.

Rose heard as the door swung open and her mother ordered Trudy to get tea. Trudy walked away while Ruth walked over to her daughter to finish the maid's job.

"You are being foolish, Rose," was the first thing Ruth said. Her voice sounded angry. "You are never to speak in such a way again." Obviously, she had heard about the situation at breakfast.

Rolling her eyes, Rose's reply was, "Oh, stop it, Mother. You'll give yourself a nosebleed."

Ruth whipped her daughter around so she would be facing her. "I mean it, Rose. You know our situation is perilous. Your father left us nothing but a legacy of bad debts hidden by a good name. That name is the only card we have to play."

Daughter and mother stared at one another without speaking. Rose turned back around and Ruth went back to lacing. "Hockley is a fine match. He is the only thing that will insure our survival."

Rose's head hung low. "How can you put this on my shoulders? There are other ways."

"What do you expect we do, Rose?" Ruth asked. Rose said nothing. "Do you want to see me working as a seamstress? Do you want to see our fine things sold at an auction, our memories scattered to the winds?"

Ruth was overwhelmed with emotion. She turned away and Rose leaned against her bed post. She couldn't believe all this was happening. Here she was, seventeen-years-old, and expected to make so many serious decisions just to ensure they didn't end up in a gutter somewhere. It was ridiculous, and as much as Rose hated to admit it her mother was right. They wouldn't be able survive if they had to file bankruptcy.

* * *

After the Sunday service in the dining saloon concluded, Rose, Ruth, and Cal met Mr. Andrews to begin their private tour of the _Titanic_. He took them to special parts of the ship, showing them the architecture or giving them history or whatever. Rose stayed alongside Mr. Andrews while Cal trailed behind with Ruth. Cal remained unusually quiet.

Inside the gymnasium, Cal got down onto a stationary rowing machine and worked the oars. Rose ignored him, knowing he was just trying to show off. He did not flatter her one bit. Instead, she tried to imagine Mr. Andrews working the machine with his big, strong arms.

Andrews announced that the next stop would be the bridge, and they went. There, they overheard Junior Wireless Operator Harold Bride tell the captain that they had received warnings of ice from another ship.

"Not to worry, it's quite normal for this time of year. In fact, we're speeding up. I've just ordered the last boilers lit," Captain Smith informed.

With a small scowl, Andrews motioned the group to the door. They moved back onto the boat deck. Rose had been thinking ever since she had overhead Bride. She looked at the lifeboats, then said, "Mr. Andrews, I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned...forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone aboard."

"About half, actually," Andrews replied. He smiled, "Rose, you miss nothing, do you? In fact, I put in these new type davits, which can take an extra row of boats here. But it was thought, by some, that the deck would look too cluttered. So I was over-ruled."

"Waste of deck space as it is," Cal cut in. "This is an unsinkable ship."

"Sleep soundly, young Rose. I have built you a good ship, strong and true. She's all the lifeboat you need," Andrews assured. "This ship is as perfect as human brains can make her."

Rose still seemed unsure. Accidents always seemed to happen. Yet Mr. Andrews was an honest man, and if he believed _Titanic _was safe, then she believed it too. She smiled, and they carried on with the remainder of their tour.

* * *

That evening, Rose was very quiet at dinner again. She stared off into space, thinking on her mother's words. Cal was the perfect match for one, and only one reason: money. As much as she wanted to, breaking their engagement was not an option.

However, something happened that made Rose want to change her thinking again. She looked over at a table near to theirs. A family consisting of a mother, father, and young daughter was sitting and eating their dinner. The girl was no older than five, but the mother was being very critical of her posture. She kept correcting her on everything, from the way she sat to the way she should hold her cup.

Memories from the past flashed in Rose's mind. She remembered her days as a young child and how hard she had tried to please her mother, which was near to impossible. She remembered the pain of trying to fit into her first corset. Becoming an Edwardian geisha was nothing but pure torture.

_I can't keep doing this_, Rose thought to herself. Her mother was right about the money, but she realized that she didn't have to marry Cal just to survive. There were other options. There were other people out there to fall in love with.

"Rose? Is something troubling you?"

Rose snapped back into reality, then looked at Mr. Andrews. "No. No, I'm fine, thank you."

Andrews, who was writing in his notebook like always, asked, "Did you enjoy the tour today?"

"Oh, yes. It was lovely," Rose replied. "I wish it didn't have to end. The ship truly is beautiful."

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," Mr. Andrews said as he scribbled in his book. After he said this, the men stood up and headed off for their cigars and brandies.

Rose headed off for space again, watching the same little girl as before. She was sitting perfectly straight, finishing her desert like every well-off Edwardian lady was supposed too. It was so depressing, seeing life wasted at such a young age. It was as though the parents of the Edwardian age were brainwashing their children.

Suddenly, Rose felt a slight prod. She looked over at Mr. Andrews, who motioned toward his notebook, which he had slid close to Rose. She looked down at it, and saw amid the notes, a small message. She read to herself: _Meet me at the clock in five minutes._

The message confused Rose. She looked up at Mr. Andrews, who only smiled as he grabbed his book. He announced to those who were left at the table, "I'm afraid I have to go. Thank you all for a lovely time." He stood and walked away.

Lost and confused, Rose stayed behind. _Meet me at the clock in five minutes? Whatever could he have in mind? _She looked down at the table, debating whether she should go meet him.


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTE: Yeahhh, Catie is on a roll! Two chapters in one day! Go me :) Enjoy them**

**P.S. Cal is a meanie!!  
**

* * *

Chapter 6

Rose slowly glided up the Grand Staircase, still wondering why Mr. Andrews wanted her to meet him. She stopped at the A-deck foyer, seeing Andrews awaiting her arrival at the next landing. He was staring wondrously at the ornate clock. Taking a deep breath, Rose began to climb the stairs.

Andrews, hearing her footsteps, turned around. He smiled upon seeing her.

"Why did you have me meet you here?" Rose interrogated as she stood beside Andrews.

"There's something I wanted to show you," he replied. "Come." He held out his hand, and Rose firmly gripped it. He led her down the hall, all the way to the door that led to the outside deck.

"Mr. Andrews, where are you taking me?"

Andrews didn't reply. He opened a gate and they moved down a flight of stairs, up another, and then walked all the way to the very tip of the bow.

"I come here in the morning to watch the sun rise and in the evening to see it set," Andrews revealed. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Rose held onto the railing, looking out at the scenery before her. The sky was painted with splashes of orange, yellow and red, much like a fire. It was the most mesmerizing sight she had ever seen. She closed her eyes, feeling the wind sweep her hair and hearing the water splash some fifty feet blow. "It's almost like I'm flying!" she exclaimed. "I feel like a bird, flying high above the sea."

"It's amazing where one's mind can take you," Andrews said. He stood behind Rose and grasped onto her hands. "Rose, I don't know how, but you have captivated me."

She turned her head, not believing the words he had just spoken; nor could she believe they were standing on the bow together. Everything felt so perfect. He had captivated her, too. They had each other wrapped around their fingers, bound together like some spell had been cast upon them.

Before either of them knew it, their lips were locked together. It started out sweet, comfortable and gentle, then turned more and more passionate. He placed a hand around her waist while Rose had a hand on his neck.

When their lips finally unlocked, they looked into each others' eyes. "This is insane! It doesn't make any sense!" Rose exclaimed with a laugh.

"It doesn't, does it?" Mr. Andrews spoke as he looked deeply into her soft blue eyes. He got lost in them.

Rose stared back, just wanting to stay there forever. They seemed to fit together like a puzzle. Then she spoke those three words: "I love you."

Mr. Andrews ran his fingers through her soft, strawberry blond hair. Still lost in feeling, he kissed her again. Rose closed her eyes, waiting to wake from her dream. Things were just too perfect to be real. But to her surprise, she never woke up.

* * *

As she sat out on her private promenade, Rose just couldn't keep herself from smiling. She had just returned from the most wonderful time with Andrews. After kissing in the sunset, they headed off to his stateroom, where they enjoyed a glass of wine and a little "fun."

Rose could still feel the touch of his shipbuilder's hands on her body. They were rough, but warm and gentle at the same time. She suddenly got goosebumps, swearing she could still feel those hands caressing her skin once again. Then, she could sense his warm, tender lips pressing against hers. They moved down her neck as Andrews' hands began to feel her. His body was pressed against hers as they lay atop the bed. She was spellbound by his scent; a captivating smell of sweat and cologne. Rose could sense his hand as it moved up her leg and toward her thigh. The wondrous, miraculous deed was then performed.

Unexpectedly, Cal walked onto the promenade, still dressed in his dinner attire. He had just returned from the usual post dinner smoke, brandy, and card game. He seemed betrayed as he stood in front of his fiancée, staring her down with extreme anger.

Rose instantly snapped back to reality. "Is something wrong, darling?" she asked, seeming innocent as she looked up at Cal.

"Did you have a good time with Mr. Andrews?" he asked.

Rose looked up at him, her eyes soft and unafraid. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Don't play games with me, Rose," he said, his voice seeming dark and cold. "I know you went into his stateroom."

"Yes, I went into his stateroom," Rose said. "I don't see a problem with that."

Cal gave a small, dark laugh. "One can only imagine what happens beyond closed doors."

Seeming taken aback, Rose said, "You think we did something together? Cal, that is absurd! This is all just a big misunderstanding."

"Oh? So I'm guessing the exchange of saliva on the boat deck was just a big misunderstanding too, wasn't it?"

Rose's eyes turned cold. "I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow me."

"You will never behave like that again." Cal tried to keep his anger hidden. His voice was calm. "Do you understand?"

"I'm not some foreman in one of your mills that you can command," Rose replied sharply." I am your fiancée!"

"Yes! You are!" Cal shouted, his voice starting to rise. "You are my wife in practice, if not yet by law. So you will honor me, as a wife is required to honor her husband!"

Rose had risen to her feet. "I am free to act however I wish, Cal. I am not some dog who will sit at your command."

Cal's eyes narrowed. "You...WHORE!" he slapped her clear across the face. She turned her head away, not able to feel her numbed cheek. Cal then gripped onto her arms. "You are my fiancée. You belong to me and no one else. You are bound to me and only me. Is this in anyway unclear?"

Tears welled in her eyes as Rose softly shook her head.

"Good," Cal replied. He let her go, then walked off the promenade. Rose held the back of her hand to her mouth, then fell into the chair and began to sob. She began sobbing so violently that she did not even notice the slight shutter of the ship that occurred at 11:40 P.M.

* * *

"Not to worry, miss, I'm sure it's just a precaution," a steward had informed Rose when he saw her tear-stained cheeks. Of course she wasn't crying because they had just struck an iceberg, but because of that bastard fiancé of hers.

"This is ridiculous," Cal muttered as they stood in the middle of the sitting room. He looked out the door, watching as frustrated stewards and confused passengers walked up and down the hallway.

Stewards were going about telling everyone to put their life jackets on and to head to the boat deck immediately. Once Ruth had finished dressing, she, Cal, Rose, and their servants began to head for the deck.

"I honestly do not see the need to do this in the middle of the night," Ruth stated as she slipped on a glove.

"Just the God damned English doing everything by the book," Cal replied as they moved through the A-deck foyer

"There's no need for language, Mr. Hockley," Ruth said nonchalantly. She stopped and turned toward Trudy. "Go back to my room and turn on the heater so it won't be cold when I return." Trudy obeyed orders.

Rose, who moved much like a zombie, saw Mr. Andrews as he entered the room. He looked around at all the people, seeming in a trance of his own as he moved up the stairs. Rose walked after him while Cal followed after her.

"Mr. Andrews," Rose called as she grabbed onto his arm. "I hear the talk of an iceberg, and I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth."

Andrews looked down at her, a look of doom on his face. He steped down a stair to be level with Rose, then quietly informed, "The ship will sink."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes," Mr. Andrews replied. "In an hour or so, all this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic."

Cal, who seemed stunned by the thought of the ship sinking, muttered, "My God. But this ship can't sink."

"She's made of iron, Mr. Hockley. I assure you, she can," Andrews replied. "Please, tell only who you must, I don't want to be responsible for a panic. And get to a boat quickly. Don't wait. You remember what I told you about the boats."

Rose couldn't believe this. She didn't want to. Instantly, she remembered what he had said. _About half, actually_. "Yes, I understand."

Andrews gave a curt nod, then turned and continued to make way to the boat deck.

Rose remained where she was on the steps. _Titanic_ sink? But he said it was safe! It had to be a mistake. Truly, something as small as an iceberg could never be able to sink the unsinkable ship. Or could it?


	7. Chapter 7

Note: LE GASP! Can it be?! Chapter 7 is finally up?! Catie did not die?! Indeed, it is FINALLY up! I am **SO **sorry I have not updated in weeks. I got so caught up in school work that I did not have time to write. But here it is: Chapter 7. It's not as great as I hoped it would be, but maybe you guys will think otherwise. Enjoy! Chapter 8 will be up ASAP! I promise!! Please review!

**Chapter 7**

It was nearly a quarter 'til one in the morning when Ruth, Rose, and Cal stepped onto the dimly light boat deck. For an emergency, there were few people outside. Rose wondered where they all could be. The ship was sinking for God's sake!

Ruth could easily see why hardly anyone was outside. It was freezing and more than half past midnight. Who in their right mind would have a lifeboat drill in the middle of the night? She did not see the logic. Of course, she did not fully understand the circumstances.

Cal led the way to a little group standing near the edge of the ship. There, Second Officer Lightoller was trying to muster up enough women to launch lifeboat number seven. However, none of them wanted to go. They, much like Ruth, did not see the need to float out to sea and sit there in the freezing air until it was safe enough to come back to the ship. They'd rather stay behind with their husbands, where it was nice and warm.

Suddenly, a rocket shot up into the sky and emitted white sparks. A signal for help. Half the crowd looked up in awe, thinking it was some sort of a firework show. Rose, however, looked up in fright. White sparks; a signal for help. It had to be true: _Titanic _was sinking. How could people be so blind? The ship was tilting forward and she could have sworn she felt it listing to the starboard side. How could they stand here like fools, pretending that everything is okay?

The few women that decided to leave said their final farewells to their husbands before clambering into the lifeboat. The group was getting smaller and smaller. Rose, Ruth, and Cal were getting closer to the boat. Rose looked around, wondering where Mr. Andrews was. She couldn't leave knowing he was still behind.

At the front of the little group stood Molly Brown. She was helping Lightoller get women into the boat, giving them reassuring words as they stepped inside. Rose swallowed hard when they finally reached the boat.

"Come on, Ruth, it's your turn," Molly announced.

"We're leaving now?" Ruth questioned. "I left my broach in my stateroom. I must have it! With the way this ship is someone is bound to waltz right in and steal it." She turned to leave, but to her surprised Cal grabbed a hold of her arm to stop her.

"Stay here, Ruth," Cal said firmly. His commanding voice didn't surprise Rose, but the fact that he was trying to save her mother did.

Ruth stared up at Cal, debating whether to go or board the boat. "Oh, all right. I hope these things won't get too crowded. Do you know if they will be seated according to class?" she asked Molly as she climbed into the boat. "I will never dare sit beside a steerage passenger."

"Shut up, Mother!" Rose snapped. Ruth looked back, startled that she would act in such a manner. "Don't you understand what's going on? The ship is sinking. The water is well below freezing and there will not be enough boats. Half of the people are going to die."

Cal sneered, "Not the better half."

Rose wished she could smack him right then and there. How could he say such a thing in a time like this? It was true. Half of the people were going to die. It wasn't just the poor who were going to die, but half the men as well. Lightoller was not letting any men on his boat at all. Does that mean men couldn't get on any boat? Even Mr. Andrews, the builder of the ship? If any man could survive, it should definitely be him.

Mr. Andrews. . .It was then that Rose realized he wasn't around. Where did he go? She hadn't seen him since they met on the Grand Staircase. Where did he disappear off to? Was he okay? Had he already taken a boat and gotten off to safety? She had to find it.

"Alright, Rose, it's your turn, darlin'," Molly announced.

Rose stepped back.

"_Rose_," Cal snarled through gritted teeth."Get into the boat!"

"There's no time to play around, Rose," Ruth said. "Get into the boat."

Rose stood there, motionless. She stared her mother down sternly, then said, "Goodbye, mother." She turned and began to walk away.

Cal grabbed a hold of her wrist before she could get far and wrapped her back to face him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Get off of me," Rose snapped in an angry, low tone. She tried to pull out of his grip. Cal kept fighting back, not daring to let go. "Get off!"

Cal stopped fighting. "You're going to him? The Ship Builder?" He gave a small laugh, not believing this. "You whore! You are my fiancé, and as my fiancé you are bound to _me_. "

"I am bound to no one, Cal," Rose retorted. "Especially to a dirty bastard like you." She spit in his face and when he let go of her wrist she ran like her life depended on it. He did not dare to chase her. Her mother called for her, but Rose did not dare turn back.

* * *

"Mr. Andrews! Mr. Andrews!" Rose ran up and down every first class corridor, trying to figure out where he would be. He was no where to be found. He couldn't have possible left already, could he? Rose had set her mind on finding him. She would stay as long as she had to just to find him, even if that meant staying until the ship sank.

It seemed like hours had passed as she looked around the ship. Why did it have to be so complicated? She was afraid she would never find him. Finally, she decided to check C-Deck, a place she had yet to look. She ran down the corridor, shouting his name as she ran past confused passengers.

Mr. Andrews was somewhere along the ship, trying his best to alert all the passengers to head to the deck immediately. As he searched the corridors, he couldn't help but wonder if Rose had made it off all right. He truly cared for her and would not be able to bear the fact that his ship–his pride, his joy–had killed her. It was hard enough knowing that some fifteen hundred people were already condemned, but thinking of the possibility that Rose might be one of them was even harder.

"Is anyone in here?" Mr. Andrews called as he peered into a first-class stateroom. Nobody. He turns to go to the next stateroom and sees Rose running toward him. He was so happy to see that she was all right.

"Mr. Andrews, thank God!" Rose gasped, trying to catch her breath. She grabbed a hold of him. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"What?" Andrews asked confused. "Why are you still here? You have to get to a boat! Quickly!"

"No!" Rose stubbornly replied. "I'm not leaving without you."

"Rose, this is nonsense. The ship will be gone within the hour. You _have_ to get off before all the lifeboats are gone."

"I already told you," Rose firmly stated, "that I am not stepping foot off this ship without you." She paused for a second. She could feel her heart beating against her chest. She spoke those three words once again, they ones that are so simple yet so difficult to say: "I love you."

Frowning, Mr. Andrews pulled her off to the side. "Rose, you have to understand that we cannot be together. I am nearly twenty years your senior. I am too old for you. At at home there is a wife and beautiful child waiting for me. I cannot stray from my family."

Rose stared up at him, puzzled. "How can you say that we cannot be? Mr. Andrews, I love you!"

Sighing, Mr. Andrews replied, "Rose, you are like a daughter to me. I love you too, but only as a daughter. That is all you will ever be."

Taken aback, Rose asked, "How can you say that? How can you say that after the time we spent together? That is sick!"

"That should never have happened," Andrews apologized. "I'm sorry if I led you on. It's just. . .you have mystified me. I was so wrapped in you that I lost all sense of being. It was as though I couldn't remember who I was or what I was doing. Rose, I'm sorry, but you have to understand that we cannot be, considering the circumstances. I wish you could see that."

"I wish you could see that I love you," Rose cried, her eyes wet with tears.

"I'm sorry." Mr. Andrews reached out to comfort her, but she just shook her head and backed away from him. How could he be saying this? How could he say that he loved her one minute and the next say she was like his daughter? What the hell was going on in his sick, perverted mind? "I cannot believe you," Rose muttered. "You're sick! You're a sick bastard just like the rest of them! I knew you were too good to be true."

Rose turned and began to walk away.

"Rose, wait!" Mr. Andrews called. He began to walk after her, but when she heard his steps behind her she began to run. He tried to chase her, but he just wasn't in the shape to be running after her. Reluctantly, as hard as it was for him, he let her go.

Tears flooding down her rosy cheeks, Rose ran all the way back to her stateroom on B-deck. She slammed her door shut, locked it, and sat on the edge of her bed. She still couldn't piece the puzzle together. Why? Why did he lead her on like that? She loved him more than anything. How could he not love her back? His kiss seemed so passionate, so loving. How could he say it meant nothing?

Rose laid down on her bed, hiding her face in her silk pillow. She cried, wishing she could stay there until the water finally took her down with the ship.

_That bastard!_ she thought. _That bastard...I still love that bastard._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The ship was tilting forward more and more by minute. Rose was sure of it. She could tell that the ship had shifted. She was still on her bed, but she was no longer crying. Instead, she lay on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her body was numb. There was no feeling to her whatsoever. What had just happened, she did not know.

There was a lot of commotion coming from outside her door. Rose could hear the echoes of the people as they made their way up the Grand Staircase. She tried to drown out their voices, but they just wouldn't disappear. Many were shouting, telling their loved ones to hurry along. Children were complaining that they were too tired to run. Others were talking in foreign accents, none of which Rose understood.

Suddenly, Rose heard the voice of an Irish immigrant mother and her child as the made their way past her corridor. "Where are we going, Mommy?" a little girl's voice spoke.

"We have to hurry up to the boat deck, dear," the mother replied. "We'll be safe once we get there."

It was then that Rose sat up in bed. The voices were her epiphany. Titanic was really sinking and people were really going to die. This was real. People were having the hardest time trying to save themselves while Rose just laid there, welcoming death like it was some long lost friend. It wasn't right. And to think, just day ago she almost committed suicide. Now, she was trying it again? It was idiotic.

Quickly, Rose crawled out of bed and headed out into the corridor. It was empty. However, the B-deck landed was cluttered with people as the hastily moved toward the Boat Deck. Rose joined them. As she climbed, she could hear the rushing of water. She looked down. No fewer than two landings below was the freezing water of the Atlantic Ocean. Her eyes widened in fear as she ran faster to A-deck.

Once she reached the A-deck landing, Rose started to make her way up to the Boat Deck. Suddenly, she stopped. To her surprise, Cal and his right hand man Mr. Lovejoy had just entered the foyer from the top deck. Hurriedly, Rose twisted herself around and ran through the revolving glass doors and down the corridor toward the lounge. She prayed that Cal didn't see her. The last person she wanted to deal with was him.

When Rose entered the lounge she stopped running and looked behind. No sign of Cal. He must not have seen her. She sighed in relief, then began to looked around the lounge. It was completely empty, all except for one other person, who was standing beside the fire, staring wondrously at the painting mounted on the wall.

"Mr. Andrews?" Rose questioned.

He looked at her, but did not say a word.

She took a step toward him, wondering why he was still here. "Won't you make a try for it?"

Andrews didn't reply. Instead he said, "I'm sorry, Rose. What I said before…" He sighed. "You have to understand that I have a family to provide for."

"I do understand that you have a family, but-"

"Please, let me finish," Andrews interrupted before she could say anything more. "With that being said, I think you are the most amazing young woman I have ever met. Truly, you have captivated me. Knowing you has been an honor. The time I have spent with you has really been incredible. If I had the chance to do everything all over again I would take it. Rose, you are so very special. If I didn't already have Helen's hand I would ask for yours." Andrews took a deep breath, then added, "What I am trying to say is this: I love you." He softly ran his hand down her pink cheek.

Rose tried to blink back tears. "I love you, too," she whispered. They leaned in close to one another and shared another kiss. When they pulled apart, Andrews looked up at the clock that sat on the mantle. "There's not much time. We have to get to a boat. There is one loading here on A-deck. If we hurry, we may catch it."

Nodding in agreement, Rose grabbed a hold of Andrews' hand as he led her outside to the A-deck promenade. There was a small group of first-class passengers. The women, with the assistance of Officer Lightoller, were climbing through one of the open windows and sliding across a deck chair into lifeboat four. The two walked over to the group, waiting for their tour to boat.

In front of the line were the Astors. As Mrs. Astors slid into the lifeboat, her husband asked Lightoller if he could join her because of her "delicate condition." Lightoller said that he was not currently accepting men; women and children only. Rose bit her lip, hoping Andrews would be allowed to come with her. She begged God that he could come.

When they reached the front of the line, Andrews took off his coat and placed it around Rose's shoulders. "You'll freeze without a coat," he told her.

"But won't you be cold?" she questioned.

Andrews stared at her hesitantly, searching for an answer. Lightoller butted in before he could reply, telling Rose that she had to board now.

"Aren't you coming?" Rose asked Andrews.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I cannot join you. My place is here…with the others."

Rose stared at him confusedly. "What do you mean your place is here?"

"I mean exactly what I said," he replied. "Rose, I am the cause of this madness. I am to blame for this. Why should I get to live while hundreds of others have to die as a result of my flaws?"

"Surely you cannot believe you're to blame for this. Mr. Andrews, _that_ is madness. In no way is this your fault." Rose stared deeply into his eyes. Tears caused them to sparkle like diamonds. He seemed so broken. She knew Titanic was his pride and joy and she could understand why he would be so shattered. But why stay behind when you have the opportunity to leave? It was ridiculous.

"Please try to save yourself, Mr. Andrews," Rose begged. "If not for me, do it for your wife and child. What would they think if you died without trying?"

Sighing, Andrews replied, "I believe they would rather me die here valiantly than to die at home as a coward. Besides, me being on a lifeboat would take up the spot of another woman or child."

"That's preposterous!" Rose exclaimed. "If you survive, no one will see you as a coward. Surviving will make you no less of a man. So please, promise you'll try to find another boat."

Andrews didn't promise her a thing. Instead, he said, "You should board the lifeboat now or they'll leave without you."

Rose flung herself around him, tears starting to well up in her eyes. "I'm not leaving without you," she whispered.

"Please," Andrews pleaded in a whisper. "Save yourself. If not for you, do it for me." He pulled back from her hug and looked into her eyes. "If you love me, you will leave me here and save yourself. Go on and live your life the way you to. You're strong! You can make it on your own, I know it."

Tears flooded down her cheeks. She couldn't let him go. She just couldn't.

"Mr. Lightoller," Andrews called. He looked at Rose, wishing she would understand that he only wanted what was best for her. "Take her."

Second Officer Lightoller reached out for Rose and grabbed a hold of her arm. She couldn't resist. With the help of the officer and Andrews, she climbed up through the window, slid across the deck chair that connected the lifeboat with the ship, and landed in the arms of the women already aboard the boat. Rose looked back at Andrews, not believing this was really happening. Why did it have to end like this?

When the command to lower away was given, Rose became hysterical. She looked all around her. She could hear people from the boat deck shouting and watched as they ran towards the stern of the ship. In her lifeboat, women and children, all of wealthy status, waved goodbye to their husbands, who stood watching from the promenade.

Standing at the open window was Andrews. Their eyes locked as the boat slowly lowered down toward the water. He tried to force a smile to show her everything would be okay. She didn't believe it. Her heart was pounding against her chest. A rocket blasted overhead. She broke focus just for a second to look at the rocket, then immediately turned her focal point back on Andrews. This can't be happening.

As soon as the lifeboat hit water, Andrews turned and walked away. Rose could no longer see him. She tried to call out for him, but there was a huge lump in her throat, keeping her from speaking. She bit her lip, trying to fight back the tears, but it was just too hard. The tears just flowed, gushing out of her eyes like a waterfall. Rose sat motionless, praying to God that he went to find another boat; praying to God that 1:55 AM wasn't the lost moment she would ever see her dear Mr. Andrews.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Rose and Madeleine Astor held onto each other tightly as they watched the sinking of the _Titanic_. It hurt knowing that their loves were still possibly on board somewhere. It was too hard to cope with. Both sat in the lifeboat with the other women and children, staring blankly at the ship. After their lifeboat parted from the ship, it didn't take much longer for the ship to sink. It was no more than a half hour later that the sea had completely engulfed the ship and it slipped underneath the surface.

The screams of the people who were left to die in the middle of the freezing sea was heart wrenching. Rose tried to drown out their voices, but ignoring them was too hard. She wished they could go back, but the risk of being swamped was very high. What was worse than the screams was the silence that followed. The screaming silence was deafening. The fifteen hundred that had went into the sea had all been taken away. The only thing left behind was their frozen bodies.

The people inside the boats had nothing to do but wait. Wait for what? Anything. To them, even death seemed beautiful. Anything to escape the freezing Hell.

An absolution finally came at approximately four in the morning. The Cunard Liner RMS _Carpathia_ could be seen in the distance. Many cheered, glad that their savior had finally arrived. Others, like Rose, wept with sadness, knowing the possibility that they'd be saved while their loved ones had died.

It was hours before Rose's lifeboat was taken to the ship. When her feet landed on the deck of _Carpathia_ she felt afraid. What now? Would Mr. Andrews suddenly show up? Would her mother find her? Had Cal survived? She was so scared. The last thing she wanted was to go back to her old life. As she walked through the crowd she tried to hide her face, hoping no one would recognize her. No one did. She disappeared into the crowd of survivors.

For hours, Rose waited for Andrews, hoping he had actually found a boat. She waited with a bunch of other women, who also were hoping that their fiance or husband had survived. Throughout the morning, many women had given up and came to the choice that their loved ones did not make it. Rose was determined not to give up. Andrews would not have stayed behind, she was sure of it.

To her dismay, Andrews never showed up. Sighing, she walked away from the weeping widows and wondered off to the steerage area of the ship on the lower deck, figuring no one would find her there. She held onto Andrews' coat tightly, acting as though it was her lifeline. She wouldn't let go for anything.

Rose wondered around the deck of steerage passengers. Across the deck she could see an officer of the ship. Women kept walking up to them, describing people and asking for names. Did he have a list of survivors? She just had to see for herself. She walked over to the man and asked if he had a Thomas Andrews on the list.

The man looked up and down his list. He softly shook his head and replied, "I'm sorry, Miss, but he is not listed."

Rose quietly thanked the man and walked away. He wasn't on the list. That didn't have to mean he was dead. Maybe they just hadn't gotten around to all the people yet. She took a deep breath, trying to think positive.

The time just kept passing by. It was late in the afternoon by now. Rose stood at the railing of the ship, staring expressionlessly out at the sea. He wasn't coming. He didn't survive. She was sure of it. He would have found her by now.

Suddenly, Rose heard footsteps approaching from behind and heard a man call out to her. She quickly turned, hoping it was Andrews. To her disappointment, it wasn't. Instead, it was Satan himself.

"Your mother and I have been searching everywhere for you," Cal spoke as he approached Rose. She couldn't believe it. That bastard had survived and he had found her. Now what? She had already made up her mind: she wasn't going back. But how to convince Cal?

"Don't," Rose spoke. "Just don't talk. Let's make a deal, since that is the only thing you seem to comprehend and are always interested in doing. From now on you do not exist to me and I do not exist to you. You will never see me again and you will not attempt to find me. In return, I will never speak of the horrid things you've done to me. Is this in any way unclear?"

Cal stayed silent for a few moments, then said, "And your mother? What do I tell her?"

"Simply tell her that her daughter did not survive." She turned away and went back to staring at the sea.

Cal is confused. He didn't understand what he did wrong. He loved Rose and didn't want to lose her. "You're precious to me, Rose."

Rose shook her head and snorted. "Jewels are precious." She took off her engagement ring and handed it to Cal, who reluctantly took it. "Goodbye, Mr. Hockley."

After a few minutes, Cal finally sighed and walked away. Rose grinned in triumph. He was finally out of her life. She hadn't been so happy in ages.

Days later, the _Carpathia _sailed into New York. Rose stood in the drizzle just to watch as they landed in the pier. She smiled as the ship sailed past the Statue of Liberty. Freedom at last. She was finally free from that dictator. Finally, she could do whatever she pleased without having to worry about her and her family's reputation. She wished more than anything that Andrews could have been there to share that happy moment with her. She wished he was at her side, holding her hand and telling her how happy he was that they could finally be together.

After the ship docked, the first and second class passengers got to disembark first. She watched as her past friends moved through the crowd. Flashing lights from the cameras of reporters lit up the harbor. When the third class passengers could finally get off, the crowd had shrunk and there were not as many reporters. Nobody cared about the poor. At that moment, Rose was thankful for that, only because she was tired of the society intervening with her affairs.

Rose slowly glided down the gangway, still wishing that Andrews was with her. However, if he had survived, she knew he would return to his family. He was too good of a man to stray from his wife and child. Either way, Rose guessed, she would never have a chance with him. That Andrews was one of a kind and she hoped that she would be able to find a man just like him.

At the bottom of the gangway there was a group of immigration officers, asking each passenger their name as they walked past. When Rose approached one of the officers, he asked for her name, and she searched for one. If she said Rose Dewitt Bukater her true identity would be revealed. However, she didn't have the dignity to steal the name of Mr. Andrews. The immigration officer patiently waited for her to speak.

After thinking for a minute, Rose decided just to pick a random name and say it. "Dawson. Rose Dawson," she had said, knowing nobody would be able to identify her with that name. The officer thanked her and she walked on. She pushed through the crowd of jostling people, where she disappeared and was never found again. She went on and lived her life exactly how Andrews wanted to: the way _she_ wanted, with nobody to boss her around.

**In loving memory of my hero, Thomas Andrews. May he, and the other fifteen hundred souls that were taken on the morning of April 15th, rest in peace.**


End file.
